


False Dawn

by srmarybadass



Category: True Blood
Genre: Angst, Angst and Humor, Character Death Fix, Fae & Fairies, M/M, brief depiction of vampiric self-mutilation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-23
Updated: 2012-01-23
Packaged: 2017-10-30 00:49:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/325944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/srmarybadass/pseuds/srmarybadass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How far would you go to save the other half of your soul?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. cold be hand and heart and bone

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written/published September 2009 on LJ.  
> It was sort of an experimential fic for me, with prose and angst and world-building.  
> Also, it was written before the fairies showed up in the show, so their characterization was taken out of the hints we got in the books and my own imagination.

_Cold be hand and heart and bone_

 _Cold be travelers far from home_

 _They do not see what lies ahead_

 _When sun is gone and moon is dead_

 

 

Her maker was crumbling from the inside, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

 

“Eric!” Pam said sharply. “Have you been listening to a word I’ve said?”

 

Eric sighed. “Yes, yes, you need me to sign papers for Fangtasia- please, Pam, can we discuss this another time? I spent all evening in the bar, and I am tired.”

 

“You’re tired because you haven’t eaten,” Pam corrected, taking in his sallow skin, even paler than usual, and sunken eyes. “If you don’t want a True Blood, who don’t you just go sip from a-”

 

“I am _not hungry_ , Pam,” Eric growled.

 

Pam rolled her eyes. “You cannot keep this up for much longer- you’ve barely eaten since Dall-”

 

“I said _I am fine!”_ Eric shouted, striking his child solidly across the face.

 

For a moment, there was silence as the two stared at each other.

 

“I am sorry,” Eric finally said far too quietly. “I- I am not myself.”

 

Pam sighed. “Go. Just…go and mope.” _Like hell_ , she thought to herself. Eric was not only her Maker, but her closest friend, and probably the only person she cared about more than herself. There was no way she was going to let him starve himself just because Godric had grown tired of existence. _Selfish bastard,_ Pam thought angrily. _Leaving Eric like this- and me to deal with him._

 

After her cracked cheekbone healed, a process that took just under two minutes, she went to the kitchen and warmed a bottle of True Blood before taking it into the den, where Eric was sitting on the couch, staring at the blank TV screen.

 

Silently, she handed it to him. Silently, he took it and drank. Eric would never apologize- it wasn’t in his nature- but this was his way of saying sorry. Pam turned on the TV and flicked through the channels before settling on a mindless Lifetime film set in the last century. Before Dallas, Eric would have joined her in correcting and mocking the inaccuracies, but he just sat and watched listlessly. Pam sighed and worried.

 

 

The phone rang the next night while Pam was straightening her hair. Usually, she would have ignored it, but this was the private line.

 

“Northman residence, Pam speaking, this had better be fucking important,” she greeted smoothly and in the politest tone imaginable.

 

 _“This is Andre, calling from the Queen’s residence,”_ the sullen voice came.

 

 _Well, fuck_ , Pam thought. “What do you want?”

 

 _“The Queen requires your maker. As soon as possible.”_

 _Click._

 

“Well, hell,” Pam sighed again, putting aside her beauty materials and rising from her chair in search of Eric.

 

She found him in the master bathroom, and if she had a beating heart, it probably would have stopped.

 

 _“Eric!”_ she shrieked, across the room in an instant and flinging the knife out of his hand. “What the _fuck_ do you think you’re _doing?!”_

 

“I…” he began hoarsely. Pam scrutinized his bloody arm, bloody with strange markings carved into it. Runes, probably. “Did you use _silver?_ ”

 

Eric nodded sheepishly.

 

“You _dumbass,_ ” Pam told him vindictively, slapping him across the face as hard as she could. Eric didn’t blink, didn’t twitch, didn’t do anything but sit there like a statue. Pam sighed. “We’ve been summoned by the queen.”

 

That, at least, got a reaction. “Why?”

 

“I don’t know,” Pam said. “But we’re going to find out. Now, I’m going to start the car and you are going to put on a change of clothes. You will be out front in three minutes, or else I will smack your bitch up. And by bitch, I mean you.”

 

Maybe it was the physical threat, maybe it was the tone of Pam’s voice, but Eric was out front in two minutes and forty-seven seconds. He was dressed nicely and sat completely silent for the first hour of the drive.

 

Pam finally broke the quiet. “I don’t understand.”

 

“What don’t you understand?” Eric inquired in turn.

 

“You,” Pam sighed. “You’re so…charming and- well, not _cheerful_ , but more like _you_ at Fangtasia- well, you before…and then when you get home, you completely lose your shit.”

 

“What would you do if I died?” Eric asked, staring down at his hands.

 

“Don’t you start that shit with me, Eric Northman, there is no _way > in _hell_ I am letting you off yourself,” Pam seethed vehemently._

 

Eric shrugged. “I won’t. At least, I don’t think so. But…just pretend I died. How would you feel?”

 

Pam took a long minute to consider it- long enough that two mile markers passed in the glare of their headlights. “I…wouldn’t know what to do.”

 

“Would you want to die as well?”

 

Pam shrugged, which was more cavalier than she felt. “Maybe.”

 

“You’ve only been with me for a century, Pam,” Eric told her, and once more Pam was reminded exactly how _old_ her Maker was, how much of his past she had missed out on. “Imagine if you were with me for a millennium.”

 

Pam pretended that the slight shiver she felt was caused by the wind whipping by.

 

 

Sophie-Anne Leclerq’s palace was still incredibly… _palatial_. Pam felt her facial muscles pulling into a defensive sneer as she walked close to her maker.

 

“The Queen will see you now,” the burly bodyguard informed them, letting the two Shreveport vamps into the dayroom. Pam rolled her eyes. She had never really missed the sun- being a vampire was about the _night_ \- and this was just a bit tacky. Not that she would ever say that to the queen.

 

Right on cue, the queen strolled in, resplendent in an icy blue gown. Pam arched an eyebrow, wondering why she chose to walk about like that on an informal occasion- she felt a little odd in her immaculate pantsuit- but, then again, it was the queen. Eric, to his credit, stood up straighter and smiled quite convincingly.

 

“Your majesty,” he greeted with a cordial bow of his head.

 

“Eric, don’t you look like….the dead,” Sophie-Anne finished with a mildly surprised look schooled across her flawless features. She brightened as she turned to Pam.

 

“Ah, Pam. Always a pleasure.”

 

“The pleasure is all mine, majesty,” Pam drawled in response, smiling as widely as she ever did.

 

“I do wish you would visit me more often, darling,” Sophie-Anne said, accent regal and arched.

 

“As do I, but at the moment, I am far too busy taking care of the big lug,” Pam bantered, pointing to Eric.

 

“Oh, yes, I heard about Godric,” the queen said offhandedly. “Such a tragedy.”

 

“Indeed,” Eric said tightly, back stiff. Pam darted her eyes nervously back and forth between the two, hoping that Eric would have the sense to control himself. To his credit and her pride, he showed no emotion whatsoever. “Why have you summoned us, majesty?”

 

“Andre!” the queen called, snapping her fingers. “Send in our guest.”

 

A previously unnoticed door opened and in strode a tall, ageless woman dressed like a figure out of the Middle Ages. The scent of fairy hit all three vampires like a sledgehammer, and Pam’s fangs automatically extended, as did Eric and Sophie-Anne’s, even though they had hundreds of years on her and far more control.

 

“New pet?” Eric asked hoarsely.

 

“Not hardly,” Sophie-Anne replied with a tinge of sadness. “I asked, but…no.”

 

“This is the vampire?” the woman inquired.

 

“This is,” the queen replied. “Present your case.”

 

The woman turned to Eric, who, through some miracle, managed to focus on what she was saying.

 

“I am Kestrel, of the Forest Fae,” she began, her voice rolling and echoing with power. “There is a killer loose in the Faelands.”

 

Pam blinked. She hadn’t been expecting that. Neither had Eric, judging by the look on his face.

 

“And you are unable to take care of it on your own?” Eric asked. Fairies were extraordinarily powerful, more so even that vampires, and in their own realm- unstoppable. Usually.

 

“We are unable to stop it on our own,” Kestrel confirmed. “Believe me, leaving our domain was the last resort for us, and to ask a _vampire_ for aid…” she sneered. “But four of our kind have been slain already, and our numbers are depleted enough.”

 

Eric nodded. Four fairies dead…that _was_ bad. Whatever was killing them was obviously dangerous. “What is taking them?”

 

“We believe that it is a vampire,” Kestrel replied.

 

“How did a _vampire_ get into the _Faelands_?” Pam asked, surprised. Kestrel turned towards her as if noticing her presence for the first time.

 

“I have no business with you. You may leave.”

 

“You will treat my child with respect,” Eric snarled, and Pam smiled internally. Maybe he wasn’t a lost cause after all…

 

“It is not unheard of for a vampire to end up in the Faelands en route from Earth to…another dimension,” Kestrel said grudgingly.

 

“You mean when they die?” Pam clarified.

 

Kestrel nodded. “Not by staking, we believe, which is the more common form of death, but vampires who burn by the sun occasionally end up in the Faelands. Usually we are able to stop them quickly, but this one is…worse. And it has been hundreds of your earth years since one got into our territory.”

 

 _Don’t get your hopes up, Eric_ ¸ Pam thought.

 

“Why are you asking me for help?” Eric inquired.

 

“She came to me first,” Sophie-Anne broke in. “I recommended you, because I can trust you, and because you are powerful.”

 

“What is in it for me?” Eric grinned, cocking an eyebrow. Good ol’ Eric, capitalistic as ever.

 

Kestrel looked at Sophie-Anne, who nodded. The fairy snapped her fingers and, with a pop, a young man tumbled in from another dimension.

 

He was a _fairy_ , and the only reason Pam wasn’t scything her way through the two delicious supernatural beings in front of her was because it was rude to raise your fork before the hostess raised hers, and for some reason Sophie-Anne didn’t seem all the inclined to eat the messengers.

 

“This is Zan,” she said with a kick to the boy, which even Pam considered a little bit of an overkill, as he was already on the ground with his hands bound with rope. _Kinky,_ she thought, although the rope itself was probably symbolic, since this guy was a _fairy_ , and she was getting distracted. “He has been convicted of high treason and was going to be executed. However, if you can rid the Faelands of this menace, we will give him to you.”

 

Pam exchanged glances with Eric. The prospect of their _own personal fairy_ as a _pet_ had managed to get through his fog of sadness, and he licked his lips at the intoxicating scent. _Hurrah for distractions,_ Pam thought.

 

“Is he full-blood?” Eric checked.

 

“He is,” Kestrel confirmed.

 

“You strike a sweet deal, fairy,” Eric grinned. “Is there something you’re not telling me? What do you know of this monster? Has anyone actually seen it? How dangerous is it?”

 

“There have been a few who have seen it and fought it off,” Kestrel told him. “They said the monster was in the form of a young boy, a young boy with strange markings.”

 

It was fortunate that Pam was watching her maker, because the flash of fire that lit up his eyes only lasted an instant before his face returned to a dead, stony setting. Pam mentally sighed- now her Maker was going to want to go off on a wild goose chase through another dimension. Well, she was going to be joining him.

 

“I accept your deal,” Eric said. “I will rid you of this...monster...and in return, you will give me the fairy boy.”

 

“I'm not a _boy,_ ” Zan spat, but was silenced by another kick from Kestrel.

 

“Excuse me, what is this 'I' business?” Pam snapped. “I'm going with you.”

 

“ _Pam,_ ” Eric sighed, but his child was very stubborn.

“You're taking me with you,” she said calmly. “I'm not passing up a chance to earn a chunk of _fairy._ ”

 

Pam and Eric looked at each other. Their connection was so deep that, while they couldn't exactly read each other's minds, emotions flowed easily between them. Eric understood that she wasn't just accompanying him because she wanted a piece of the reward, and Pam understood that this was something Eric _had_ to do. He would chase his maker to the ends of the earth and beyond- and she would do the same.

 

“We will go now,” Kestrel said. “I will take you myself.” She opened a pouch on her belt and scattered a circle of dust on the ground while the queen backed away to a safe distance.

 

“Good luck, Mr. Northman,” she said. “Watch out for him, Pam.”

 

“I will, your majesty,” Pam said, before stepping in next to Eric, careful not to disturb the dust. Kestrel yanked on Zan's rope, and he was dragged in.

 

Kestrel began to chant in a language never heard by human ears, and the dust began to glow lightly before swirling gently around the group, spiraling up, faster and faster. Suddenly, a blinding light filled their vision, and Pam was only barely able to register Eric grabbing her hand before they were plunged into another demesne.


	2. cold be travelers far from home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How far would you go to save the other half of your soul?

_Cold be hand and heart and bone_

 _Cold be travelers far from home_

 _They do not see what lies ahead_

 _When sun is gone and moon is dead_

 

Pam and Eric arrived in the Faelands abruptly and completely naked. In fact, her nudity was the second thing Pam registered, right after the cold stone floor. The third thing she noticed was that Eric was still gripping her hand.

 

“Eric!” she whispered. He turned to her with wide eyes, an animal ripped from its territory. She sighed. “You need to let go if we’re going to put on some clothes.” She turned to Kestrel, who still retained her medieval attire, as did Zan, although he only had a pair of what appeared to be breeches on. “Where the hell is my clothing? That suit was _Chanel,_ and if you think it’s easy to find _Chanel_ in _bumfuck nowhere, Louisiana_ -”

 

“Fear not, vampire,” the fairy said haughtily. “Your garments are still on the floor of your queen’s palace in- as you said- bumfuck nowhere, Louisiana. Material objects of Earth cannot travel to the Faelands. We will provide you with clothing.”

 

“You better,” Pam muttered, and may have continued if it were not for Eric’s _“Pam,”_ a warning that sounded like his old self. He was a master of the old vampire tactic of using snobbery to disguise fear. She approved.

 

Kestrel snapped her fingers and a door to the room- and they were in a room, made completely of stone, with sigils and symbols on the walls- opened. In strode another fairy, in the guise of an older gentleman, who bowed low to Kestrel before handing Pam and Eric two neatly folded piles of clothing. He left as silently as he had come.

 

“Thank you for the attire, my lady,” Eric said politely. Off his turf, he knew enough to be respectful to the authorities.

 

“Once you have dressed and armed yourselves, you will leave the castle,” Kestrel ordered. “We are but a few miles from the forest where the monster roams. If you dispose of it, you will return to us and we will give you your reward.” She nudged the boy on the ground. “If you perish, we will tell your queen.”

 

“Gee, thanks,” Pam rolled her eyes, sliding on the clothes that were near-exact copies of Kestrel’s.

 

“Here, Pam,” Eric said, passing her a long sword on a belt.

 

“Oh, no,” she protested. “I’m a vampire, we don’t need weapons.”

 

“Of course we do,” Eric reasoned. “Put. It. On.”

 

Pam heaved a great sigh and strapped the sword around her waist. “Happy now?”

 

Eric grinned. He would be a long time in explaining that seeing his child dressed like a medieval warrior was a huge turn-on. The sword just made her look that much more dangerous.

 

“We go,” he said, turning on his heel and striding out the door. They walked down the hallway, Pam a few paces behind Eric to show her subservience- and to catch repeated glances of his rear end, which was clad in some sort of fairy-leather breeches. The trousers themselves fit his lanky frame perfectly, and tucked neatly into the soft leather boots. A flowing shirt and vest completed the ensemble.

 

The fairies’ castle was large, but surprisingly empty. The scent of fairy permeated every inch of the building, but the two vampires were alone as they walked the silent hallways, taking in the burnished candelabras, the hovering torches, and the looming doorways.

 

“Where are they?” Pam whispered.

 

“Everywhere,” Eric replied, looking around. He could only barely spot the faintest shifting in the shadows, the lightest breeze shifting the dust. “You don’t honestly believe that they would let two of our kind walk around unsupervised?”

 

“I don’t know what to believe anymore,” Pam said honestly. Eric smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

 

“I’m glad you’re here, Pam,” he said, and she didn’t know whether to believe that either.

 

 

Outside the castle, the landscape was a convincing facsimile of Earth, but there was something wrong around the edges. The grass was too green- even in the dark- the stars were too bright, and all was quiet, except for the slight rustle of the vampires’ footsteps. No noises, animal or human. An eerie feeling crept into Pam’s spine, but she followed her Maker loyally as he strode out of the castle- the only sign of life in what appeared to be a vast wilderness.

 

“I don’t like it here,” Eric said, looking around. “I can’t smell anything other than fairy.”

 

“Smells good, though,” Pam commented, sniffing deeply. She considered breathing for the first time in nearly a century, just so she could have the delicious scent of fairy constantly flowing through her.

 

“We’ll head through the forest, see if we can find any tracks,” Eric explained. “If it’s not a fairy, it won’t be flying, and hopefully we can find its scent. Besides, maybe we’ll be lucky and it will come after us.”

 

“We should lay a trap,” his child replied. “You can be the bait.”

 

Eric laughed, and even though it was short it was still a joyful sound. “Moments like these are the reason I’m glad I turned you.”

 

“I’m sure,” Pam sighed. Eric picked up the pace and began to run, not at his highest speed- Pam wouldn’t have been able to follow if he had- but faster than most humans. The night wind whipped easily through his hair and the gentle push-pull of his muscles relaxed him. It had been a long time since he had ran through the night without any fear of human interruption. Too long. Centuries, certainly, since he had flown through the woods of the old country with-

 

He silenced his mind before it could even think _his_ name.

 

The two hunting vampires entered the forest and were immediately engulfed by the silent, looming trees. The only sounds were their long limbs hitting overhanging and outlying branches, and the occasional hiss of pain as branches smacked Eric’s skull. Pam grew surprisingly grateful for the fairy’s clothes, because she would not want to ruin any of her own like this.

 

“Eric!” she called out after what may have been an hour of running. “Eric, we should stop and plan now!”

 

Her Maker halted, and Pam, who still had momentum going, crashed into him.

 

“Gee, thanks for your consideration,” she said, preparing for a full-fledged snark before she caught the look on his face.

 

“Eric…are you all right?”

 

“There’s no such thing as _all_ …or right, for that matter,” he sighed, but his mocking of the queen served as a shabby disguise of the pain he felt within. Or hollowness- Pam couldn’t tell the difference, and she wasn’t sure which one worried her more.

 

“You’re not _all right,_ ” Pam replied, but the venom was lighter.

 

“Let’s rest,” Eric said, even though they hadn’t run anywhere near enough to be even the slightest bit fatigued, even in Eric’s weakened state. They situated themselves on the softest rocks they could find and stared at the sky through the gaps in the trees. Eric toyed briefly with the idea of building a fire, but the idea seemed too human.

 

“Tell me about him,” Pam prompted.

 

Eric shot her a glare that could have iced over the sun.

 

“No, really,” she persisted. “Humans have this thing called ‘therapy’. Apparently talking about your problems helps.”

 

“I know what _therapy_ is,” Eric snapped. “You and I were well acquainted with Mr. Freud.”

 

“I remember,” Pam smiled.

 

Eric stayed silent for a long minute, staring into space. Then, finally, he spoke.

 

“We met a telepath during the American Revolution.”

 

Pam stared at him, wishing he would expound on that point, but not wanting to rush him- going slowly was a big point of ‘therapy’. She had been reading up on it.

 

“My Maker and I,” he clarified. “The telepath’s name was Wilhelm.”

 

“Did you travel together?” Pam asked quietly.

 

Eric nodded. “That we did, up and down what was- to us- still the New World, although its occupants had ceased calling it that a century before. And then we went out West, where the nights were often as quiet and empty as this. He- my Maker liked that. The silence. Said it allowed him to think.”

 

It was the most he had spoken about his maker since Dallas.

 

“What happened to Wilhelm?”

 

“I turned him, at his request, after a few years. He lost his ability, though, which had been his point- he hated hearing all the voices in his head,” Eric chuckled. “He had very little control.”

 

“Where is he now?” Pam asked.

 

“Dead,” Eric replied shortly. “Caught in a house fire barely twenty years later. Stupid Wilhelm.”

 

Pam nodded, unsure of what to do next and unable to offer comfort, beyond that of a physical nature, but she had the feeling that wouldn’t actually cheer Eric up all that much.

 

“Thank you for turning me,” she found herself saying abruptly.

 

Eric cocked his head to the side, an invitation to continue.

 

“When I was human…my husband, he was an idiot. I would have had far too many children and died during my prime, if I had lived that life,” she explained. “I much prefer this, to be honest.”

 

“I am happy I turned you,” Eric said. “After all, who else would take care of me like this? Follow me to another plane of existence?”

 

“I’m sure Mr. Compton would be thrilled,” Pam ribbed.

 

Eric rolled his eyes. “Ah, my most loyal subject. You know, I think-”

 

But Pam never found out what Eric thought, because he froze, ears twitching lightly. Pam stilled as well, listening as hard as she could to the nonexistent noises- _there_! A rustling, the lightest rustling of leaves as something crept closer from a quarter-mile away.

 

She dared not even whisper, but she mouthed _“Animal?”_ knowing Eric could see her even in the dark.

 

He shook his head. There were no animals in the Faelands....or at least, none that a resident of Earth would be familiar with. The noise came closer, and then suddenly ceased. Eric whipped around, ready for a charge, but Pam was quicker. In one smooth motion, she drew her sword and hurled it into a particularly thick clump of bushes. A high-pitched scream, neither human nor animal, emitted from it, before whatever had been stalking them flashed away into the night, injured.

 

Eric bolted over to the bushes, but the tracks were too faint to make out. The leaves were spattered in blood, however, so the vampire took some on his fingertip and gently tasted it. Then he froze in- shock? Horror? Delight?

 

 _“Godric,_ ” he whispered hoarsely. Pam barely had time to comprehend that before Eric was off, sprinting blindly through the woods, trying to follow the blood-trail. She chased after him, feeling almost human as she doubled her speed, trying to catch her Maker before he did something stupid, like run off a cliff.

 

Through the woods they ran, miles flashing by in what would have been heartbeats, if there were any humans in this world. Eventually, the woods thinned, and the vampires found themselves in rolling hills and meadows, fields of grass that practically invited horses to go prancing across them. Pam didn’t like this, not one bit. No cover, out here…and Eric was still far ahead of her, and _whatever_ was in the woods even farther than that- and then Eric stopped, collapsing to his knees.

 

“Eric!” Pam shouted, dropping down next to him. “Eric! Are you hurt?”

 

Eric shook his head, blood-deprived body barely squeezing out pale pink tears. He was weak, he was so weak, he hadn’t been drinking…

 

“Couldn’t keep up,” Eric choked.

 

“Was it him?” Pam asked.

 

Eric nodded painfully.

 

“Are you sure?”

 

Eric nodded again.

 

“We will find him,” Pam found herself reassuring him. “We will find somewhere to sleep for the day, and then we will search some more. He may have left a blood trail.”

 

Eric nodded, trying to regain composure. “When does day arrive?”

 

Pam looked up. “I don’t- oh. Oh, _hell.”_

 

The horizon in the distance was growing lighter, steadily lighter, a teasing shade of white-blue that promised a continuance of orange, of _sun_. And the sun was rising fast.

 

Eric whipped his head up and stared at the sky, eyes widening in horror. Two thoughts struck him at once- the sun was rising, and they were _in the open._

 

“Run!” Eric ordered, and the two vampires fled as fast as they could, trying to escape the morning rays, but it was futile and for naught. The sun was coming too quickly, and they had gone too far in the night. They wouldn’t reach the forest, especially not tired and weak as they were.

 

 _Fuck, fuck, fuck,_ Pam thought as the fear hit her for the first time in a century.

 

“Pam- wait!” Eric shouted, and tackled her to the ground, covering her smaller body with his own.

 

Oh _shit_ , oh _shit_ , this wasn’t good, she couldn’t dig at this angle, Eric was _squashing_ her. Pam found herself unable to contemplate anything but how much it would hurt to burn. Eric would go relatively quickly, at his age, but it would take long, agonizing minutes before she smoldered out of existence. She squeezed her eyes shut- not that she could see much from outside the effective blockade of Eric- and decided that she had lived a good undead life, and that it was for the best that she would die with her maker.

 

Only she didn’t smell any smoke.

 

“Eric- Eric, get off, you’re squishing me,” she grunted after a few tense minutes. Eric slowly rolled off her, and both vampires stared at the sky in shock. Dawn was in full swing now, and by all accounts they should have been toast. Literally.

 

“What the…?” Pam breathed. “How did-”

 

“Pam- Pam, we’re in the _Faelands,_ ” Eric breathed. “We’re not on _Earth_. We’re not bound by Earth’s rules. The fae’s sun is not our own- it…it doesn’t burn us.”

 

She looked at her Maker. He was smiling, grinning like a schoolboy, seeing the light of day for the first time in a millennium. After soaking in Eric’s joy, Pam looked around. Things were so much more _colorful_ under the sun- the grass was _so_ green, the sky was the lightest blue, and there were tiny purple flowers scattered everywhere.

 

“Come on!” she said, pulling him up. “Let’s go see what the forest looks like!”

 

 

The forest, as it turned out, was mostly different shades of greens and browns, but the dappled sunlight drifting lazily through the leaves lit up the whole world. Eric, loss forgotten for the moment, had a constant smile on his face and he couldn’t help but to touch everything in a certain, childish sense of wonder. Pam busied herself by placing images into her vault, to recall when they got back to Earth and things returned to normal.

 

The pair wandered for hours, basking in the glow of light that didn’t kill. But soon the peace was shattered, and it was Pam who scented it first. For a moment, she toyed with the thought of not telling Eric- he was downwind, and if she got him to change direction he would remain oblivious- but she knew that she couldn’t do that to him.

 

“Eric,” she said, tone serious as stone. Eric froze, smile vanishing and body tensing.

 

“What?”

 

“I smell-” but she didn’t need to finish. Instead of bolting, Eric tipped his head back and sampled the breeze. Familiar blood was on the wind.

 

“Now!” he said, flashing off as fast as he could. Pam followed, thankful that Eric was in a weakened state, or she would have lost him, and wandering alone in the Faelands was not something she was looking forward to.

 

Eric stopped at an entrance to a cave, low and rocky and hidden in a dry riverbed.

 

“In here,” he said hoarsely, voice cracking. The cave was large and not too deep, so Pam was able to see the writing shape against the back wall, tucked into a corner. The two vampires approached the bleeding, shivering figure.

 

The figure was pale, too pale, and still bloody from Pam’s thrown sword. She looked into the face she had only seen a few times before, and then she looked to Eric, whose breaking heart was written across his Nordic features. His Maker’s eyes were wild, too wild. Vampires weren’t human, but neither was this, not by a long shot. There was something primal and animalistic in the boy’s eyes.

 

“ _Godric,_ ” Eric choked, blood spilling softly down his face. “ _Godric_ \- I- are you well? Are you…Godric? Godric, it’s me, it’s Eric…. _Godric?”_

 

The only response was an inhuman snarl.


	3. they do not see what lies ahead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How far would you go to save the other half of your soul?

_Cold be hand and heart and bone_

 _Cold be travelers far from home_

 _They do not see what lies ahead_

 _When sun is gone and moon is dead_

 

Eric had only a split second to steady himself before the animal in his Maker’s skin launched himself at him, burying his fangs into Eric’s neck. The vampire shrieked in pain, but before Godric could drain what little blood Eric had left in him, Pam was there, punching Godric hard enough to send him smacking into the far wall. He lay there, dazed.

 

“Pam!” Eric gasped, wound sealing itself slowly. “What’s the _matter_ with him?”

 

“If I had to hazard a guess,” Pam replied, “I would say that perhaps his mind didn’t make the trip to the Faelands as successfully as his body.”

 

There was silence in the cave for a moment, before Eric let out an anguished, wordless bellow. Pam didn’t afford herself any time to mourn- she had little emotional connection to Godric, and even if she did, it would be far more useful for her mind to be logical and working at the moment. The problem here, as far as she was concerned, was Eric. As if Godric’s _death_ wasn’t bad enough….

 

Eric sat up, neck covered in blood. He stared with dead eyes towards the form that had once been his Maker. Then, surprisingly, he got up and walked towards Godric.

 

“Godric?” he said in a quiet, soothing voice, with more than a hint of glamour in it. “Godric, are you in there?”

 

The boy looked up, head cocked to the side, looking for all the world like a confused kitten.

 

“That’s right…come here….we won’t hurt you,” Eric continued, holding out his hands in a gesture of peace.

 

“He can’t understand you,” Pam said sharply. Godric’s head whipped around and he growled.

 

“No, but he can understand tone,” Eric said quietly and calmly. “Like an animal.”

 

“Will we take him with us?” Pam asked gently, voice not matching her words.

 

A curt nod was the only reply.

 

“How are we going to get him to come with us?” Pam asked. “It’s not like we can leave a breadcrumb trail for him to follow.”

 

Eric nodded again, a pained look on his face. He reached out slowly before lightly touching the side of Godric’s face, as gently as if Godric were made of glass. Godric leaned into the touch.

 

“We’ll have to take him by force, I suppose,” Eric said.

 

“He’s much too strong for that,” Pam replied. “He’s over two thousand years old!”

 

“Voice _down,_ Pam,” Eric reprimanded as Godric startled. “Besides, I don’t think he is as strong as he once was. Or perhaps he fails to realize how powerful he is. You tossed him twenty feet, and nobody has done that since the sixteenth century.”

 

Pam furrowed her brow in thought. Then, to Eric’s surprise, she took off the long vest she wore and began tearing it into strips. Once it was shredded, she tied the strips together for form one long rope.

 

“What are you doing?” Eric asked, still stroking Godric’s hair, which appeared to calm him.

 

“I have more than enough experience with animals,” Pam explained as she focused on her work, ignoring the stricken look on Eric’s face when she said _animal_. “I know how they work. I will be the one to bind and carry Godric.”

 

 _“Why?”_ Eric whispered. “He could hurt you…you’re not as strong as I am.”

 

“‘A horse hates the master who shoes him’,” Pam quipped, an old quote Eric had taught her. Then, in a quieter tone- “You would be unable to handle it if Godric rejected you, in any way. If I am the one to take him, he will associate you with safety and me with pain.”

 

Eric blinked up at her. “But you might get hurt.”

 

Pam shrugged. “I’ll heal…and quickly, if I get some of that fairy boy in me.”

 

“Are you sure?” he asked quietly. “We can figure something else out-”

 

“No, we can’t,” Pam said in a gentle tone that brooked no argument. “Now. Here is what we’ll do. We’ll wait for him to fall asleep. Then, you will hide outside the cave and I will take him. Follow us at a distance, but don’t let yourself be seen until we are at the castle. Understand?”

 

Eric nodded, still absently stroking Godric’s hair. The ancient vampire appeared to be purring, which was more than a little disconcerting to Pam. She smiled slightly, enjoying the look of her Maker being so gentle and- well, _loving-_ towards another individual. He hadn’t ever been quite like this with her- but then again, she had never been broken. Not like this.

 

After a few minutes, Godric dropped off, dried blood- Eric’s blood- mingling with his tattoos to create new and savage markings. Eric watched him, still as death, for a minute more before silently rising, nodding to Pam, and leaving the cave.

 

“If you ever regain yourself, I apologize for this,” Pam muttered, before tackling the fragile body and winding the improvised rope around it with all the vampire speed she could muster.

 

Godric awoke suddenly and with a scream of rage and fear, fangs bared and limbs thrashing. But Pam was quite practiced with this- had single-handedly trussed up bulls for slaughter- and soon her Maker’s Maker, two thousand years old, was quite incapacitated. She bound his arms tightly to his body, leaving his legs free so that he could walk.

 

“You really aren’t in there, are you?” she mused, looking down at the frantic and wild eyes of the trapped animal beneath her. “If you were, you would never do this to your child.”

 

With that, she yanked him up, using the remaining length of rope like a leash. She pulled Godric forward, and he stumbled slightly as she led him out of the cave. By now, it was late afternoon in the single day of sun that they would be allowed. She couldn’t see Eric- he was a master of stealth, as befitted a vampire of his age and power- but she could sense him through the preternatural connection of vampires so intertwined as they. Could Godric sense him? Could Eric still sense his Maker? Pam didn’t know, didn’t want to. She half-dragged Godric onwards through the wood, as one might a wild horse they were lucky enough to rope.

 

If he only realized his strength, he would be out of those flimsy ropes in a second, and she would be dead a moment after. But his mind, such as it was, was unable to contemplate anything beyond the smallness of his body and the hunger he felt. Not that Pam could truly blame him- the scent of fairy was beyond tempting for any vampire, and she herself was having a hard time battling down the urge to tear off her clothes, run naked through the Faelands, and drain any fairy she could catch.

 

 _Perhaps Godric had a point,_ Pam mused to herself.

 

 

It took three hellish hours to make it out of the forest and up to the castle. Godric, bound as he was, hampered the vampire’s ability to travel beyond human speed. He fought for the first two hours, but towards the end, as the trees thinned out and turned into fields, he gave in, shuffling along with his spirit broken and his body exhausted. Even through the haze of her own anger and fear, Pam could feel Eric’s heart breaking.

 

 _“Fairy!_ ” Pam shouted once she had stopped in front of the castle gates. “We have your killer!”

 

Eric swooped in- after they had reached the open country, he had taken to the sky to hide himself. Godric perked up like a dog whose master had returned and tried to drag his body over to Eric.

 

“Release him,” Eric told Pam. She did, using her sword to slit the ropes. As soon as Godric was free, he scampered over and hid behind Eric’s legs, hissing at Pam. She rolled her eyes.

 

“You haven’t slain him,” Kestrel said, suddenly appearing in a spot that was empty a moment before.

 

“We will be taking him with us,” Eric informed her, hand resting protectively atop Godric’s shaggy hair. “He will be out of your territory for good.”

 

“Now hand over the boy,” Pam said, licking her lips. She was so _hungry…_

 

Kestrel snapped her fingers and Zan appeared again. “Stand,” she ordered, and he did so, looking at Godric in confusion.

 

“We now turn you over to your new masters,” Kestrel said, voice ringing. “You are forbidden from returning to the Faelands. Should you violate this decree, you will be slain on sight.”

 

Zan nodded, face pale and jaw clenched tight.

 

Kestrel turned away and pulled out her bag of- well, Pam supposed it was fairy dust. She scattered it in a circle around the four. Kestrel started chanting again, and the dust began to glow and swirl around them. This time, as they were swept across dimensions, Eric was too busy clinging on to a keening, terrified Godric to even consider holding Pam’s hand.

 

 

They landed with a thump on the floor of Sophie-Anne’s dayroom, exactly where they had left. The queen herself was lounging on a chair beside the pool, listening to some sort of classical music, but she sprang out of her chair when the four popped out of thin air.

 

“The _hell_ -” she began to shriek, but stopped. “Oh. It’s you. And is that-”

 

Godric let out a series of high-pitched whimpering noises and clung to Eric, shaking like a leaf. Eric didn’t exactly cling back, but his muscles were tensed and bulging with the grip. Pam wasn’t sure if it was for security or to keep him from devouring Zan, who was looking a little green around the gills himself. She would have to take care of that…

 

But she could focus on tasting the luscious fairy later. Now, she had to get all four of them out of the queen’s Palace of Tacky Décor.

 

“He’s gone ‘round the bend, hasn’t he,” Sophie-Anne announced.

 

Eric snarled. Godric snarled. Zan stared. Pam rolled her eyes.

 

“His…mental capacity failed to make the journey between the two worlds as well as we had hoped,” Pam drawled. “But you needn’t worry about that, Majesty. As soon as he is fed and bathed properly, he’ll be right as rain once more.”

 

Sophie-Anne looked at Pam and smiled a predatory smile. “I’m glad you’re here to take care of them,” she purred. “I could use a good woman like you in my court.”

 

 _Dream on, bitch_ , Pam thought to herself, but outwardly she merely nodded in a gesture of deference. “I would be honored, Majesty, but my duty is with my maker.”

 

“Beautiful, strong, _and_ loyal,” the queen sighed. “Such a pity I wasn’t the one who turned you. Very well, carry on with your business. Oh, and Andre!” she clapped her hands, summoning her minion efficiently. “Get them their clothes, would you?”

 

Pam sighed in relief. She _really_ liked that suit. Quickly, the clothes she and Eric had left behind were brought. Evidently, the queen had taken the liberty of having them dry-cleaned.

 

“Thank you, your Majesty,” Pam said as she quickly changed out of the fairy’s borrowed clothes. Eric was also getting back into his suit, but the fairy and the mental case were fresh out of luck in the garment department.

 

“No problem,” Sophie-Anne purred again, blatantly staring at the half-dressed vampires in front of her. Inwardly, Pam slaughtered humans. Outwardly, she smiled, said a few more words of farewell, and ushered a primal Godric, a heartbroken Eric, and a catatonic fairy out the door with more force than absolutely necessary.

 

 

Pam sighed as they walked up the steps of their home, sweet home. _Very_ sweet home, now that there was a fairy in residence…Pam grinned briefly before focusing on Eric, who was trying to soothe Godric. The last thing anyone needed was an insane, half-naked vampire running around screaming in the suburbs of Shreveport.

 

“I am going to give him a bath,” Eric announced quietly.

 

“Good, he needs one,” Pam said. “While you do that, I’m going to get to know our guest. _Intimately.”_

 

Zan turned to her, naked fear evident in his body language and scent but face as composed as he could make it. He was pretty, Pam supposed, the way that young, sexually ambiguous boys often were. Dark hair, tanned skin, and big brown eyes. She grinned.

 

“Come on,” she said, leading him off by the hand. “We’re going to get you nice and clean before dinner.”

 

“Am I dinner?” the fairy asked quietly.

 

“Oh, you have no idea,” Pam chuckled.

 

 

Talking soothingly in ancient Swedish, Eric coaxed Godric up the stairs and into the bathroom, where he began filling the Jacuzzi. His Maker, spooked by the sudden gush of water, scampered into the corner and stared at the tub with wide eyes.

 

“It’s fine, it’s all right,” Eric muttered, pouring in a liberal amount of bubble bath. “Come on over…look, it’s warm!”

 

Godric crept closer, lithe body moving easily on all fours. There was a cat-like quality about him, Eric supposed. He was interesting, as well, if Eric could only detach himself from the embarrassing emotions as well. Godric was a vampire reverted to a primitive state, knowing only immediate desire and immediate gratification. Fascinating.

 

“Off with the breeches,” Eric said. He was glad Pam wasn’t present- if she was, no doubt she would be calling him a mother hen. Or, in this case, a mother cat.

 

Godric tilted his head in the universal gesture of confusion. Eric sighed and reached for him, gentle undressing him before leading him to water. With a weird squeal-gurgle of delight, Godric sunk into the tub, eyes and nose barely visible among the mountains of bubbles.

 

Eric laughed, letting his mind drift back several centuries to a scene quite similar to this one, when he and Godric had visited a deserted hot springs in the dead of winter- only then, Godric was able to carry on a conversation about the various merits of the oral tradition versus the written tradition in poetry.

 

Happily, Godric stretched out, and that was a strike against considering him a kitten. Eric reached out and gently dunked his head under the water. Godric came up spluttering and glowing with some sort of glee at the feel of the warm water and the fruity scent of the shampoo Eric was pouring over his head.

 

The dirt and blood came off Godric in dark rivulets, staining the water so that Godric could become clean once more. His skin was so pale, and so smooth, and _damned_ if Eric wasn’t feeling a pull of lust low in his belly. Ignoring that, he focused heroically on the fact that they still needed to find a way to restore his maker to sanity, without losing their own.

 

Eric let Godric linger in the bath until the water grew cold and fogged with dirt. Then, he pulled his Maker out, wrapped him in the largest, fluffiest towel he could find-it was a pretty big towel, as it had been specially made for him- and brought him into the bedroom with no windows and lacquered lamps on the wall.

 

Godric looked sleepy, and Eric decided to forgo the fiasco of dressing him in favor of just putting him to bed. He led Godric over to the bed, and Godric immediately tumbled onto the huge, squishy mattress. The tattooed vampire appeared to be comfortably settled, and Eric turned to leave, but a sudden, iron grasp on his wrist prevented that.

 

“Oh, Godric…” he sighed, crawling awkwardly onto the bed. Godric promptly tucked himself into the protective circle of Eric’s arms and nuzzled close. Eric suddenly became aware of Godric’s nudity.

 

For a few minutes, all was quiet, until Godric emitted a high-pitched whine and started to shift awkwardly and erratically against him. Eric pulled back and gazed at the hunger on his Maker’s face. _Fuck_ , he shouldn’t do this. He should get Godric a True Blood, at least until they found out what was wrong with him, what giving him vampire blood would do to his battered mind…and then he felt a burst of pleasure in the back of his mind that wasn’t his own. Evidently, Pam had finally bit the fairy.

 

“ _Hell_ ,” Eric muttered, and offered his throat to his Maker. Godric unsheathed his fangs and plunged in with no hesitation.

 

A wordless cry of pain escaped from Eric before Godric’s grip on his throat crushed his larynx and he was silenced. Godric had fed from him countless thousands of times in the past, but he was usually gentle…and even when he wasn’t, it was only part of a game, or when they were reunited after long separations. This was different- this was the vicious bite of an animal who only knew his own need.

 

Eric quickly became grateful for the True Blood Pam had made him drink on the car ride back to Shreveport, because Godric was sucking down great, messy mouthfuls of his blood as he shifted against him. And suddenly, the shifting and writhing took on a whole new dimension as Eric found evidence that Godric was, in fact, capable of being aroused pressing rather insistently into his thigh.

 

Eric groaned when Godric removed his fangs, finished feeding but not completely satisfied. The former Viking felt himself filled with an angry, raging lust as Godric’s naked, lithe body moved against him in a frantic, spastic dance of desire. Almost against his will, Eric began trailing his hands up and down Godric’s torso, his arms, his back, tracing the tattoos he could draw with his eyes shut.

 

Godric whimpered and pressed closer, face full of pure, blind _need_. It would be _inhumane_ to leave him like that, Eric reasoned, so he dragged one hand down Godric’s chest and grasped his cock roughly.

 

Godric made a noise somewhere between a yelp and a moan as Eric stroked him quickly, harshly, and expertly. Godric’s mind may have been lost to the dark but his body remembered this dance with Eric, a familiar pattern perfected over a millennium. And Eric knew the small body in his arms better than any others, knew the meaning of every jerk, every twitch, every shudder. His fangs were out, painfully so, and he wanted nothing more than to sink himself into Godric every which way until he was able to drag Godric back into lucidity. More than anything, he wanted to hear Godric say his _name_ , as he had heard a thousand, a million times before.

 

But Godric was an animal, and he moaned and writhed like one as Eric ran his free hand over every inch of skin that he could reach. He followed the hand with his mouth, biting harshly at Godric’s shoulder, collarbone, ear. With a final shriek, Godric came, a jerky spasm of nerves in Eric’s arms.

 

The tiny vampire, satiated in every way at last, tucked himself between Eric’s body and the downy pillows and fell asleep as Eric watched over him, ignoring his own wants in favor of Godric’s needs. And right now, he needed sleep. After a few minutes, he felt the insistent call of Pam summoning him, so he awkwardly got up and shuffled down to the kitchen, where she and the fairy awaited.

 

“You smell like him,” Pam greeted.

 

“You smell like _him,_ ” Eric said, nodding towards Zan, who, miraculously, was still standing.

 

“You should have a bite,” Pam said dreamily. “He’s so _tasty.”_

 

“We must heal Godric,” Eric sighed, slumping into a chair that was a little on the small side for him. “We just….we have to.”

 

“How?” Pam arched an eyebrow.

 

“I…I don’t know,” Eric sighed, running his hands through his hair. “I don’t even know _how_ it happened, much less what to do about it.”

 

“ _You_ may not,” Zan said quietly. “But _I_ do.”


	4. when sun is gone and moon is dead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How far would you go to save the other half of your soul?

_Cold be hand and heart and bone_

 _Cold be travelers far from home_

 _They do not see what lies ahead_

 _When sun is gone and moon is dead_

 _Goddamn fairies_ , Pam thought.

 

“Explain that one more time, please,” she said out loud, glaring at Zan from across the table.

 

The fae nodded. “Certainly. Fairies are to vampires like…oh, what was that human phrase? Oh! Right. Fairies are like vampire crack, right?”

 

“That’s one way to put it,” Pam replied.

 

Zan nodded. “But there’s something about us that vampires don’t realize, because they catch us so rarely.”

 

“And that something is?” Eric prompted dangerously.

 

“In large quantities our blood is…poisonous, in a way, to vampires,” Zan explained further. “What we- _I_ \- believe happened is that your head case in there-”

 

“ _Godric,_ ” Eric growled.

 

“Godric,” Zan corrected. “Godric probably arrived in the Faelands ravenously hungry and was able to catch his first fairy. One fully drained fairy is enough to cause a certain amount of madness in a vampire- I’ve seen it- and he caught _four._ ”

 

“What did the fae do to the other vampires in this condition?” Pam inquired.

 

“Staked them,” he answered simply.

 

 _“Absolutely not!_ ” Eric roared, slamming his fist on the table. Pam was suddenly very grateful she had opted for the steel model, rather than the wood.

 

“Calm yourself, Eric, nobody is going to stake him,” Pam reprimanded her Maker sharply. “Let’s all calm down before we discuss this further.”

 

A few tense, silent minutes passed before Pam spoke again.

 

“Is everyone calm now?”

 

“ _No,_ ” Eric and Zan replied.

 

Pam stared at the fairy. “Why aren’t you calm?”

 

“I’m waiting for you and your undead cohorts to drain me,” Zan said. “I’m not connected with the others, so I highly doubt I’d have the strength to fight you off.”

 

“Forget it,” Pam said. “You’re far too valuable to kill. Besides, I have no intention of sharing you with anyone else yet.”

 

“You said the fairy blood in him is driving him mad?” Eric spoke up, voice rough as gravel.

 

Zan nodded. “Yes. I would guess that most, if not all, of the blood running through his veins is fae by now. That’s not good.”

 

“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” Pam muttered.

 

“What if we got rid of the fairy blood?” Eric suggested.

 

“You mean…drain him?” Zan inquired.

 

“Newsflash, General Genius, but even badass ancient vampires need _some_ blood in them to survive,” Pam informed the fairy.

 

“The trick would be to almost completely drain him before filling him with someone else’s blood,” Zan stipulated. “That way, what remains of the fairy blood would be diluted.”

 

“Sounds risky,” Pam worried. “You talking a human? Could we get a hobo or something?”

 

Zan shook his head. “I highly doubt a human would survive. Neither would a Were or a shifter. A fairy would get through it, but that would be rather against the point.”

 

“What about a vampire?” Eric asked quietly.

 

Zan thought for a minute. “Hmmm. Well, there’s the healing factor to consider, but then again, the very essence of a vampire is blood, and losing so much…I’d give it a fifty-fifty.”

 

There was quiet for a minute as all three separately contemplated their options before Eric straightened up in his chair.

 

“I’ll do it.”

 

 _“Absolutely not!_ ” Pam roared, an excellent imitation of the man who had made her who she was. “I will not let you risk yourself like that!”

 

Eric looked at her. “You don’t get a choice.”

 

“We don’t even know if it will work!”

 

“It’s a better plan than anything else we’ve got.”

 

 _“No.”_

 

Eric turned away from his child and faced Zan. “Tell me what I must do.”

 

Suddenly, a loud _crack_ echoed through the room as Pam threw a right hook that snapped Eric’s nose. Silence followed.

 

 _“Pam_ ,” Eric said calmly as his face repaired itself. “As your Maker, I commanded you to shut the _fuck_ up and let me make my own goddamn choices.”

 

 _“Bastard_ ,” Pam hissed. “If you die, I’ll find a necromancer and bring you back to life, so that I can kill you myself. Painfully. _Slowly._ Roasting will be involved.”

 

Eric grinned. “That’s the Pam I know and love. Now, fairy-boy…”

 

“My name is Zan,” he said quietly.

 

“Right, Zan, sorry,” Eric corrected himself. “Tell me what I have to do.”

 

 

“Are you sure you still want to go through with this?” Zan whispered.

 

“Positive,” Eric responded, staring down at the sleeping form of Godric, who was curled up naked in Eric’s giant bed. Not for the first time- or even the thousandth- Eric was reminded of how catlike his Maker was. How beautiful.

 

“Godric,” he whispered, shaking him awake. The ancient grey eyes blinked up at him in confusion. “Come on. We’re going to fix you.”

 

Gently, he swooped the smaller man up in his arms and enjoyed the feel of Godric nuzzling his collarbone as he strode smoothly down the stairs. He tried not to think about the fact that maybe it would be the last time he would hold Godric.

 

Pam waited in the basement, with the cement walls, a metal chair, and drain in the center of the floor. There would be blood, and she “didn’t want it on my goddamn furniture, you stupid Viking.” Behind her back, she held a silver knife with a wooden handle, deadly and beautiful, like each being in the room.

 

Godric whimpered at the blast of cold, musty air, but was soothed by Eric gently stroking the delicate muscle at the back of his neck and muttering words of endearment in a language that sounded suspiciously like Old Swedish.

 

“Are you going to glamour him, Eric?” Pam asked.

 

“Won’t work,” Eric said shortly. “Zan- the chains?”

 

“Wrapped and ready,” the fairy said quietly.

 

“Right then,” Eric nodded, taking an unnecessary breath to steady himself. “On the count of three. One- two- _three!”_

 

It was laughably easy to bind Godric to the chair. His keening yelp of betrayal broke what was left of Eric’s heart and made him yearn for the beautiful, strong boy who had once held the lives of legions in his hands. Well, he was going to get his boy back, even if he had to reach down into the depths of Godric’s soul and drag him out kicking and screaming.

 

Pam had him securely tied down in under thirty seconds. Eric had ordered the chains wrapped in cloth, so that they only weakened Godric, rather than burned into his flesh. Ever merciful, her Maker. She raised the silver knife, waiting for Eric’s command.

 

“Do it now,” he gasped. “Please. Just- now.”

 

Quickly and efficiently, Pam sliced the blade down the veins in Godric’s left forearm, putting the hissing burn of silver and the screaming out of her mind. She repeated the process with the right arm, the silver preventing the wounds from healing. Godric’s blood poured in great rivers onto the ground as Eric watched, blood rivers of his own streaming down his face.

 

Zan watched carefully, waiting for the precise moment. Both Eric and Godric’s lives hung in the balance of the timing- too soon, and there would still be fairy blood in Godric, too late, and he would die. Two minutes ticked by. Three. Four. Godric’s struggles were growing weaker, his shouts turning into hissing and his flailing melting into heavy, unnecessary panting.

 

 _“Now_ ,” Zan ordered tensely, and Eric shared a last look with Pam before swooping down and offering his jugular to Godric, who bit down without an instant of hesitation and began drinking as fast as he could. Eric, grasping Godric’s forearms to steady himself, could feel the wounds closing up as he drained himself into his Maker, as he had done a thousand years ago, and as he would do a thousand times over, as long as Godric would be all right.

 

It only took three minutes before his vision began to go woozy, and a minute after that, the edges began going black. The last thing he saw before he was swallowed by oblivion was the curling snake tattoo, rippling in a sea of white.

 

 

Pam stared down at the two unmoving bodies, slumped over each other in a gruesome embrace. She sighed.

 

“You, get Godric,” she ordered, maneuvering Eric off the chair. Her knees buckled slightly under the weight, and she cursed her Maker’s bulk, not for the first time.

 

“It is normal for him to not breathe, yes?” Zan asked.

 

“Oh yeah,” Pam answered. “We definitely don’t want him breathing. Breathing is bad.”

 

“Well, mine certainly isn’t breathing. He’s not moving, for that matter. Yours?”

 

Pam stared down at Eric. “Nothing.”

 

The two awkwardly navigated the basement stairs, sighing with happiness when they were out of the darkness and into the compact fluorescent lighting- once Eric had found out about Bill’s recycling, he had insisted on outdoing him. Now, they not only recycled, but used energy-efficient light bulbs as well. _Take that, Mr. Compton,_ Pam thought fiercely, in an effort to mask her fear with contempt. For once in her long, long life, it didn’t work.

 

“In here,” she grunted, swinging open the bedroom door with her hip. Unceremoniously, she dumped Eric on the bed, but took care in arranging him so that when- _if,_ her traitorous brain whispered- he woke up, the sheets wouldn’t have left creases on his skin. He hated that. Without asking, Zan laid Godric next to him.

 

The vampire and the fairy stared at the two motionless forms for a minute. They looked like a pair of marble statues, exquisitely carved and ice cold. Then, Zan reached forward and moved Godric’s hand so that it rested in Eric’s.

 

“Really, Zan?” Pam arched an eyebrow. “Really?”

 

He shrugged.

 

“Now what?” Pam asked.

 

“We wait,” the fairy answered simply.

 

Pam sighed. “Well, no sense in just sitting here. Care to watch some television?”

 

Zan cocked his head. “That’s a human form of entertainment, yes?”

 

Pam nodded. “Indeed. Come, there’s a show about- a happy club? Joy club? Something like that. The actors are positively _delicious._ ”

 

“Well, I can’t really collaborate with the _delicious_ part, but I could certainly use a distraction,” Zan replied.

 

“So could I,” Pam muttered, shutting the door behind her. “So could I.”

 

 

The first thing Eric saw when he woke up was Pam’s chest. Apparently, she was leaning over him to adjust the painting above the bed.

 

“Pam?” he mumbled. In a flash, she was crouched beside him.

 

 _“Eric?_ ” she gasped. “Is it- are you-”

 

“I’m fine, just a little…hungry,” he replied.

 

“Thought so,” Pam replied, handing him a True Blood. He drank greedily, taking the edge off his thirst, before he properly remembered.

 

“Godric!” he gasped, sitting bolt upright and knocking his head against Pam’s with enough force to break her nose.

 

 _“Ow_ ,” she muttered, holding her face.

 

“Payback is a bitch,” Eric grinned happily. Then, worried- “Where is he? Did it work?”

 

Before Pam could answer, the door creaked open, and Godric walked slowly in, followed by Zan. Someone had put a pair of trousers on him, Eric noted, and-

 

 _His eyes._

 

Their gaze locked, and although Godric’s eyes were wide, they weren’t wild, weren’t glittering brightly with madness. They were the calm, lucid grey he remembered, holding the promise of infinite and ancient wisdom in their depths. Then, Godric opened his mouth, and Eric’s heart swelled in his chest.

 

“My child,” Godric said quietly, a hint of smile playing at his lips. “My Eric.”


End file.
